Molesworth

The House That Grew Molesworth

So I agreed with Dods that we had better get out of the way. 'Esmé is so quick, ' I said; 'she'd very likely see there was something the matter, and papa did so warn us not to let them know.' 'Humph, ' said Dods. 'I don't think we need worry about them. Denzil is as dense as a hedgehog, and as comfortable as a fat dormouse. He'd never worry as long as he has plenty to eat and a jolly warm bed to sleep in. And Esmé's just a--' 'A what?' I said, rather vexed, for Esmé is a sweet. She's not fat or lazy, and I don't think Denzil is-not extra, for such a little boy. 'She's just a sort of a butterfly, ' said Geordie. 'She'd never mind anything for long. She'd just settle down for half a moment and then fly up again as merry as a sandboy.' I could not help bursting out laughing. It was partly, I daresay, that I felt as if I must either laugh or cry. But Dods did mix up his-'similes, ' I think, is the right word-so funnily! Hedgehogs and dormice and butterflies and sandboys, all in a breath.